


The Way across the Flame (we'll make it together)

by CranberryBliss (lostyoursoul)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Isaac the killer-bambi, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostyoursoul/pseuds/CranberryBliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek’s half-shifted, his claws glinting in the cold neon-light of the room, and he’s never looked more lethal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way across the Flame (we'll make it together)

**Author's Note:**

> Big Spoilers for S2 Episode 2. Don't read the fic or the prompt if you haven't seen it yet. 
> 
> Written for [this prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/3353.html?thread=2592025#t2592025).

It happens so fast.

One second Stiles wrestles himself free from the fake deputy’s arms just enough to pull the fire alarm, alerting the entire street, the fire department and all patrol cars that there’s something going on and the next second he’s scrambling back, watching helplessly as Isaac first breaks the guy’s arm and next slams his head against the wall with a sickening crack.

Then Isaac turns and his eyes, as yellow as Scott’s but somehow scarier, focus on Stiles.

It’s all he can do not to pee his pants. His eyes dart around for a weapon, an exit, anything will do, really but the only thing in sight is the syringe and Isaac chooses that exact moment to step on it, crushing the glass under his boots as he slowly walks towards Stiles.

“Wait. Isaac, it’s me- Stiles, remember? We play Lacrosse together and.. I came here to spring you out and eating me as a thank you really won’t do-”

Isaac growls, deep and terrifying and makes a jump towards him before Stiles can even think about getting to his feet.

“No, come on, I’m too young to die and the Sheriff’s son being eaten by a werewolf in the police station won’t even make a good movie plot- _ow!_ ” Stiles yelps as Isaac’s hand strikes down without warning, sharp claws raking through his shirt and splitting the skin open.

There’s blood, a lot of blood, _fuck, so much blood_ and it hurts like a bitch, his chest burning like fire and _itching_ , like when Stiles got scratched by his aunt Trudy’s cat once, except the cat was just playing around and Isaac really wasn’t-

A clawed hand shoots out to grab the torn remains of his shirt and yanks him forward, bring his neck in terrifying proximity to Isaac’s teeth and _dying from fear_ gains the upper hand on _peeing his pants_ , just like that, when Stiles hears another growl and Isaac is pulled off him, thrown into the wall. He slumps down next to the hunter, dazed, and Derek is standing in front of Stiles, staring down at him with red-glowing eyes.

He’s half-shifted, his claws glinting in the cold neon-light of the room, and he’s never looked more lethal.

“Derek-” Stiles croaks. “Derek, wait-” But Derek whips around and crosses the room with a single jump, both hands fisted in Isaac’s shirt to pull him up. The fabric gives easily, revealing a pale, sweaty neck-

“ _No!_ ” Stiles yells, struggling to get up on his feet but his legs feel like pudding and he has to hold on to the wall. “Derek, please, don’t- I’m fine, okay?”

Derek freezes, pulls back just a little and glances at Stiles, lets his eyes wander over his ripped shirt, the blood on his skin.

Stiles can see the fury in his eyes, in his white-knuckled grip on Isaac and he gets it, he thinks, understands, but Derek turned Isaac and he should be teaching him how to do better instead of killing him when he did something wrong. Scott fucked up more than once but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die for it, so neither does Isaac.

“Please.” Stiles’ throat is parched, tight, but he knows Derek understands him when his grip relaxes just a little. “It’s his first full moon, it’s not his fault, okay? And I’m fine, seriously. It’s a scratch, it- it already stopped bleeding. We can just patch it up and it’ll be okay. Peachy. Right as rain, even. Okay? Derek?” 

Derek’s hands open and Isaac drops to the ground. He looks scared out of his mind and Stiles can see little scratches from Derek’s claws on his neck but they’re already closing.

“He hurt you. You’re bleeding.” Derek growled, his chest heaving. He takes a few steps towards Stiles, his fingers flexing like he wants to touch, to make sure, but he doesn’t.

“I know. Not his fault.” Stiles repeats. His heart is beating so fast, like it’s trying to stage an entire drum concert all by itself, with some help of the sirens approaching outside. “We need to go. My dad will be here in about half a second and if he sees-” He gestures awkwardly at his own chest. “-this, he’ll freak out and lock me in my room forever so I don’t die.”

Derek nods curtly, his eyes darting back and forth from Stiles’ eyes to his chest. It makes Stiles dizzy, a little. “What about him?” He jerks his head in the general direction of Isaac, cowering low against the wall.

Stiles isn’t good under pressure on a normal day and he’s really tired all of a sudden. Making awesome plans requires far more time to think and less sirens interrupting his thought process. And some chips and a bottle of coke.

“-lock him back up? I don’t know! Leave the hunter guy, definitely. He can figure out his own story for why he’s at the station, wearing a deputy uniform and a fake badge.” Stiles shrugs helplessly which, _ow_ , makes one of the scratches bleed again. “If we take Isaac with us, they’ll think of him as a fugitive.”

Luckily Derek functions much better than Stiles right now, so he works quickly to pull a struggling Isaac up from his position on the floor, almost throwing him - “Derek, ow, come on, don’t hurt him-!” - into the holding cell and slamming the door shut so the lock clicks in place.

They leave the hunter right where he is, for lack of a better plan and slip out of the back door just as the fire trucks pull up in front of the building. Derek keeps watching out for him, one hand on Stiles’ arm to catch him when he stumbles, until they reach Stiles’ jeep.

“I’m driving.” Derek decides and Stiles really doesn’t argue with that but Derek makes no move to start the car. Instead he turns to Stiles, one hand reaching over to pull the blood-soaked, sticky fabric away from his skin.

Stiles hisses in pain while Derek’s fingers prod gently at the wounds. “Ow, ow, ow, _careful-_ ”

“It’s not deep. You’re gonna live.” Derek says quietly. The last part doesn’t sound like a joke but Stiles decides that it is one anyway. “It mostly stopped bleeding. Your dad will be busy here for a while, so I’ll take you home and we can patch you up there.” He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, choosing a slight detour to make sure they didn’t meet the Sheriff somewhere.

Good plan. Derek should be making all the plans from now on.

“Yeah.” Stiles bobs his head up and down in slightly dazed agreement. “I might fall asleep. That’s okay, right? It’s only bad if you have a concussion, I think. I don’t have a concussion. Are you gonna carry me inside if I fall asleep?”

Derek frowns at him for a moment, then nods. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Cool.” Stiles’ eyes slip shut mid-word and he’s out like a light.

 

When Stiles wakes up early the next morning, his chest tight under clean, white bandages, he finds Derek stretched out beside him, fast asleep, with one arm under the actual pillow and the other one being used as one by Stiles’ head.

“Hey.” Stiles murmurs, gently pushing at Derek’s chest until he cracks one eye open sleepily. He even manages to glare with just the one eye. Stiles is a little impressed, he won’t lie. “Did you stay here all night? You didn’t have to, I’m okay, seriously.”

Derek just looks at him for a moment, like Stiles is so stupid for even asking that question.

“I’m the Alpha.”

Then Derek closes his eyes again and shifts on the sheets until he’s more comfortable, ending up pulling Stiles flush against his chest and wrapping the other arm around his waist.

Oh. That’s.. close.

Derek’s really warm, though. And kind of comfy.

And Stiles is injured.

So to his sleep-muddled mind, staying in bed and cuddling with the Alpha of the werewolf pack he’s apparently a part of sounds pretty awesome right now.

If anything, it feels like the safest place in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you like :)


End file.
